What is it about the Italian ice brain freeze that keeps us coming back all summer long? Why do we crave the sharp tooth jolt that comes with scooping sweet, fast-dissolving ice into our mouths at great speed?
Even the serious-minded Rev. Jesse Jackson is hooked on the stuff. You can almost hear him exhorting us to try Italian ice's Rainbow Coalition of flavors. In addition to the classic lemon, you can find cantaloupe, grape, coconut and even piña colada ice in Chicago. It's reasonably priced, too, with cups ranging from $1-$4 for everything from a kiddie-size cup to a jumbo cavity-causer.
Italian ice is at once harder, smoother, lighter and sweeter than a scoop of Breyer's or Ben & Jerry's. Every place that serves it claims to have a secret recipe, unique flavor or special presentation style.
"It takes a knack to make it, because if you overdo one ingredient, you'll screw it up," says Steve DeVivo of Carm's Original Italian Ice, 1057 West Polk. "Even though my family works with me here, I make 95 percent of it myself, and I've gotten so used to it that I haven't used a scale to make it in five years."
DeVivo's the third-generation owner of Carm's, which was opened in 1929. He has the brash charm of a real neighborhood guy, a quality shared by most of the city's ice shop proprietors. The big sincere smiles, ready laughter and genuine interest shown by the men and women who run the stands is almost disconcerting.
During the recent Taste of Little Italy festival, at least five restaurants on the strip along 25th Street and Oakley offered up the creamy confections at their street tables. Bacchanalia, 2413 South Oakley, serves it both hard and in the slushy granitas form. There, and at the nearby restaurants Villa DeMarco, 2354 South Oakley, and La Fontanella, 2414 South Oakley, the icy treats are mostly sought as palate-cleansing desserts.
"It's one of our favorite things, because it's a thirst quencher and so it's different from heavy cake and ice cream," says Jimmy Suero, manager of Villa DeMarco, as the jukebox cranks out "Luck Be a Lady."
At La Fontanella, the peach ice is dolloped right in the middle of a frozen peach, and the pineapple variety adorns half a frozen pineapple. When you're finished with the ice, the kitchen will warm the fruit back to a normal temperature so you can eat it, too.
While La Fontanella flies in its funky fruit flavors from Italy, Villa DeMarco and Bacchanalia both get their ice from a suburban Bellwood company called Lezza.
Further north lie the two locations of Anthony's Homemade Italian Ice: 2009 North Bissell and 1013 West Webster. The ice is diverse in taste and size, ranging up to a ten-scoop "Take Me Home" carton for $10. But owner Mike Mednick's killer creation is the Dreamsicle, a 20-ounce blend of ice and vanilla yogurt swirled to perfection with a creamy tip that rises far above the rim for $3.75. The ice may be nonfat, but this concoction must be a little bit waist-expanding. But for many, the local Italian ice kingpin remains Mario's, near the corner of Taylor and Carpenter. Head out on a Sunday night and witness mass hysteria as five lines at least ten people deep spill out into Taylor Street traffic well into the evening.
Mario's has got the same flavors as everyone else, but its allure to the likes of Rev. Jackson might stem from the juicy fruit chunks swirled into the mix.
"Look at this crowd, and you will see Chicagoans of every age, race and color," Jackson says with typically fervent aplomb during a recent Mario's stop. "This is both American entrepreneurship at its finest, and an example of families coming together both to run the business and to enjoy the product." Taking in the growing crowd, he jokes, "I should have equity in this business." Amen.
(Carl Kozlowski)
copyright 1998 New City Communications, Inc.